


night to remember

by gayforchae



Category: Men's Basketball RPF
Genre: 2007/08 season, M/M, college baby steph!!, takes place after the cavs/bobcats game in april 2008
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-23 02:28:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21312676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayforchae/pseuds/gayforchae
Summary: lebron is a man who gets what he wants.or, the night steph and lebron met for the first time.
Relationships: Stephen Curry/LeBron James
Comments: 14
Kudos: 64





	night to remember

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moons0ng](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moons0ng/gifts).

> takes place during and after the cavs/bobcats game in april 2008!
> 
> this is a birthday gift n i worked very hard to get it out on time so i hope it does not disappoint <3

LeBron had a plan for everything.

He arrived at the Charlotte Bobcats arena with the same confidence he always exuded, strutting in proudly next to his teammates and smiling wide at the crowd. His smile had only gotten bigger when he heard people around him taking about his Steph Curry and a few of his teammates on the Wildcats had shown up, excited to see him play.

LeBron had gone to their game against Wisconsin, where they were fighting to get past the third round of the NCAA tournament. He’d been in Detroit, where the game was held, and had shown up with a bit of his entourage with intentions to see just how good the “Curry kid” that the media kept talking about was. He’d never admit that Steph Curry was the only reason he went, of course, but…it was not entirely wrong to say that that _ was _correct.

Now, though, the roles had been reversed. After losing in the fourth round of the tournament, the Wildcats had gone home disappointed. The Cavaliers-Bobcats game was only a few nights later, and somehow with only days left before the game Steph and his teammates had managed to snag good seats near the front. 

He could see the college player from the court as he was walking to his seat. Steph was watching him with an excited look on his face, eyes bright with a combination of admiration and exhilaration. It was enough to motivate LeBron even more - he wanted to show the younger man what the NBA was all about, what _ he _was all about.

The shoes on Steph’s feet, just barely visible between the empty chairs in front of him, caught LeBron’s attention. They looked like his own. He stepped closer, squinting to get a better look, and saw a familiar logo on the side - those were _ definitely _ his shoes. He grinned proudly at Steph, glancing up and down so the college player would notice what he’d seen. The smile on his face only widened when he saw Steph flush slightly as he realized, eyes darting away in embarrassment. _ Cute. _

One of his coaches grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the team huddle that was forming, distracting him from any further silent conversation. He glanced back once to see Steph looking back at him, and for a second he thought he might’ve seen a hint of longing on the other man’s face.

He turned away again, grinning to himself. Tonight would be something else.

* * *

Maybe he’d taken showing off a little _ too _far, LeBron thought after the referee called him for his third foul with three minutes left in the second quarter. He was usually careful with contact, having fouled out only a few times in his career and hoping to keep it that way. But sometimes he’d get irresponsible, and this time, even if he might not have agreed with the call, he knew he could’ve been more careful about it.

He heard his coach call his name and walked back to the bench without saying a word, resting his chin on his hand as he watched the end of the second quarter from the sidelines. He looked up at Steph on the other side of the arena and saw him watching the game intently. His lips were quirked up in a smile, but just barely. But then he looked towards the bench, and made eye contact with LeBron. There was no way LeBron could make out what emotion he could really be feeling from that distance away, but the way they held the contact for a few seconds made something in him stir - something he hadn’t felt in a while. He nodded affirmatively at the college player, forcing a smile even if he didn’t really feel too into it.

The way Steph smiled back was worth all the effort and so much more.

It also seemed to help finally get him back on his feet by the start of the third quarter, making a few shots and all his free throws without fouling. He felt himself getting into a rhythm, grinning wide as he made a three off a pass from Varejao. The crowd, despite not being the rambunctious Cleveland crowd that loved him and who he always felt energized hearing, erupted in response, and LeBron loved knowing that his power was so great he could even make fans of the other team cheer for him.

He continued running up and down the court, working hard on both ends to keep up the Cavaliers’ lead and hopefully end their six-game streak of losing away games. The game was going okay, and he hadn’t picked up any more fouls as of yet, so he wasn’t feeling too uncomfortable. All he had to do was help keep the lead and not foul out.

With four minutes left in the third quarter, LeBron found himself running down the court with the ball. He felt the defender on him lean off just slightly, and grinned at the immediate feeling of being able to move and having space. He was facing the rim and could see a path clear enough for him to get closer, and his smile only widened.

He paused for only a second to get his defender to do the same before breaking into another sprint and running down the middle between multiple other players. His own defender tried to get close again, noticing his drive quickly, but he was too fast, too strong, and by the time the defender could even do anything LeBron was up above him in the air.

He slammed the ball down as hard as he could, relishing the way he could hear the rim rattle under the force he’d put on it. There were screams from everywhere on all sides of him, and he spun around to start running back to the other side without any hesitation. Almost instantly his eyes zeroed in on Steph, who was standing up cheering for him, and he lifted a hand to point right at him. His face was composed and confident, eyes bright after gaining so much energy from his dunk, and his lips couldn’t help but quirk up into a bigger smile when he saw Steph jump around at the motion and grab the person next to him’s arm. He pointed back down to LeBron, mouthing something LeBron couldn’t make out to his friend and laughing while holding tightly to the arm to keep his balance.

LeBron turned back around after that, feeling far more energized than he had been feeling before. The bright lights of the stadium and the screaming fans only intensified the feelings, and he hopped back into play effortlessly. Maybe showing off hadn’t been a bad idea.

* * *

The end of the game turned out in a Cavaliers win, ending their six-game away win drought. LeBron stood up off the bench, grinning at his teammates as they ran off the court and high fiving them. He’d fouled out with four minutes left in the fourth trying to take a charge, walking off the court with slightly slumped shoulders and an almost-nervous grimace on his face. He didn’t know if his team could keep the lead, but they’d pulled through and ended the game 118-114.

He looked up to watch the crowd clearing out, their loud cheers having died down into bored chatter and quiet murmurs. His eyes locked in on Steph, across the court, standing up from his seat and picking up the bag he’d left with him on the ground. Steph wasn’t looking at LeBron, apparently having a conversation with one of his friends. LeBron watched the way one of the other guys threw an arm around Steph’s shoulders and pulled him in, shaking him playfully. He didn’t like the way the motion made something twist in him.

A manager walked over to LeBron, about to open his mouth and probably tell him to either get ready for an interview or head down to the locker room, but he didn’t give the man the chance. “Hey, can you go get the kids up there?” He asked, pointing towards Steph. “The Davidson players, I think. Tell ‘em they can come down to the locker room with us, ‘kay?” The manager looked startled and confused by the strange request, but nodded - no one says no to LeBron James.

LeBron watched the man scuttle off to start rushing through the stands before looking back up at Steph, who was mostly finished gathering his things. He looked up from the ground and locked eyes with LeBron, looking a little surprised to see the other man staring at him. They just stood like that, frozen and watching each other, for a few moments before LeBron pointed towards the manager as he was walking through the stands. Steph followed his arm and noticed, tapping his friends on both sides next to him and pointing the man out to them too.

When the manager finally reached them and began speaking, LeBron nodded to himself and grabbed his own bag and water bottle off the floor before turning away and walking off the court, high fiving a few fans sitting courtside as he made his way to the hallway. He strutted down the hall with confidence despite how he’d ended the game, just happy his team had won and maybe even happier about what was to come.

After he got into the locker room, he pulled his teammates aside while taking his water bottle out of his bag. “You know the kids on Davidson’s team?” He asked, flicking his water bottle open and taking a quick sip before he continued. “I invited ‘em to come back here ‘n meet us. Y’know, for advice or somethin’. That okay?”

Devin Brown gave an affirmative grunt. “We just s’posed to talk to ‘em? Sure.” He opened his own locker, which was next to LeBron’s, and pulled his jersey off. “They just lost in the tournament, right?” LeBron nodded. The Wildcats had ended a surprisingly good tournament run until the loss to Kansas, and, though LeBron wouldn’t admit it, he’d sat at home watching the game intently and rooting for an upset victory for Davidson.

“Maybe don’t mention that. Y’all saw some of their other games, right? Just talk to ‘em about those.” The whole team had gathered to watch a bit of the tournament whenever they had the free time to do so, and they’d all watched the game LeBron went to just so they could find him onscreen and tease him about it later.

The boys in question walked in seconds later, all conversation in the room dimming as everyone paused to watch them. There were four of them, walking in with varying degrees of timidness as they looked around them room. LeBron’s eyes zoned in on Steph in the back, who walked in with his own eyes darting around to make sure he knew where everyone was, and who had been chewing on his lip the whole time like it was an actual piece of food.

Before anyone could speak, the manager stepped forwards from behind them. “Hello, everyone. A few players from Davidson College’s basketball team are here to ask questions and maybe get some pictures.” There were a few mourners of acknowledgement. Steph finally noticed LeBron across the room, and the other man didn’t miss the way he noticeably tensed up and his cheeks slightly reddened. The manager turned back to the four boys. “Y’all can do whatever in here. No one’ll bite you or anything, promise.”

“That’s a bad promise to make!” Someone shouted from behind LeBron, and the locker room broke into laughter. He kept his eyes on Steph, watching the way his eyes crinkled as he laughed. It was distracting. Dangerous. Steph had no idea what he was doing and LeBron was feeling like he was in high school again. Thank god he still had on his baggy shorts from his uniform.

The manager, smiling, waved off the laughter after a few moments and let it all die down. “Alright, boys, you can go ask your questions or just hang out for a bit. Do whatever you want.” The boys nodded, immediately dispersing around the room to talk to the players who were looking at them with welcoming faces. LeBron looked to Steph, who had been staring back at him since they were told to talk to everyone. He motioned for Steph to come over, and the smaller man obliged, but LeBron could see from how his shoulders were slumped and the way he was playing with his hands that he was uncomfortable.

When Steph got closer, his head dropped down, eyes downcast and trained on the floor. “Hey,” LeBron started, trying to sound warm and welcoming. He was starting to regret just randomly inviting Steph and his friends down - no one had been prepared, and, as he could tell from a glance around the room, the younger boys were all clearly anxious and out of their usual comfort zones. Maybe he should’ve just gone up to Steph himself and talked to him there, or tried to find him as he was walking out, or-

“Hi,” Steph responded, interrupting his thoughts. His voice was timid but surprisingly deep and mature-sounding, unfitting of his baby face. He forced a smile, lifting a hand to reach out at LeBron. “I’m…”

“Steph Curry,” LeBron finished for him without hesitation. “Yeah, I know ya. I know you know me too.” He looked down at Steph’s shoes again, grinning at the way Steph blushed as soon as he looked back up. “I watched your games in the tournament. You played real well.”

He watched Steph’s lips turn into a pout, feeling his own heart pound at the expression. “Not well enough,” Steph mumbled, crossing his arms across his chest like an upset child. “I’m prolly gonna try again next year. Just to see if I can do better and solidify myself before tryin’ to get into the big leagues.”

The mention of the “big leagues” made LeBron’s eyes brighten. “Can’t wait ‘till you get in. I’m sure your games’ll be great to watch - and I’ll love beatin’ you.” He didn’t think he’d ever stop loving how easily he could bring color to Steph’s cheeks.

The younger man scoffed, messing with his pant strings. “They don’t even know if I’ll get drafted, man.” He swung his hips from side to side in a nervous, insecure sort of way, and down on his lip.

LeBron shook his head. “They ain’t got a clue what they talkin’ about. You makin’ it in, trust me.” He felt a little better seeing Steph become just slightly less tense, his shoulders dropping just the smallest amount. “Did you listen to my radio interview with your dude at Davidson the other night?”

He was a little taken aback by the way Steph’s whole demeanor changed instantly, his entire face lighting up at the mention of the interview. “Yeah,” he answered almost instantly, voice betraying him and revealing all his excitement. “Yeah, I played that interview _ so _many ti…” His eyes widened as he realized what he’d been in the middle of saying and his face turned red again, and he shrunk back away from LeBron. “Ah, I watched it a couple times, I guess.”

LeBron had to hold back a laugh. He felt good knowing that Steph had replayed his interview a lot - made him think that _ maybe _there could be some further interest. Just maybe. He hoped his suspicion was right, so this night could end how he’d wanted, as long as he played the rest of his cards right. “Well, I said you’d get into the NBA there, and I’m stickin’ with that point. Maybe the bullshit ‘analysts’-” he said the word with a mocking, contemptful tone for good measure “-don’t see it but a real player does. And I’d like to think a pretty damn good player at that, too.”

Steph nodded, smiling a little awkwardly but finally making eye contact with LeBron. He still looked anxious, but at least he was making a little progress. His eyes darted around the room for a second, pausing on something to LeBron’s right. When the latter looked over, he saw one of Steph’s teammates - Steve Rossiter, maybe? He didn’t remember too many of the guys on the Wildcats but he did somewhat recognize the college player - taking out a pen and paper for a couple of the other Cavs players to sign. “Wish I thought to bring somethin’ for you to sign,” Steph mumbled, bringing LeBron’s attention back to him. “‘Less you’d wanna sign my phone, I really don’t got anything.” He lifted his flip phone, waving it around in the air not too enthusiastically.

“Nah, I got a better idea,” LeBron replied with a smirk on his face that left Steph confused for a second. He didn’t wait very long before pulling his jersey off, spinning it around on his wrist as he reached into his bag to get a Sharpie. Steph watched, completely speechless, as LeBron pressed the jersey against a locker and signed his name and number on the white 23. He was about to pull it back and hand it to Steph when he thought of something else, grinning ear to ear as he wrote out the next words.

_ To: S. Curry. _

_ The Best Player in N.C. _

He put the cap back on the Sharpie and tossed it into his bag, pulling the jersey away from the locker and placing it in Steph’s hands, which seemed frozen in midair. Steph’s mouth hung open, his eyes falling down to the jersey and reading what LeBron had written with wide eyes. LeBron could even tell when he’d seen the last part - Steph’s cheeks darkened and his grip on the jersey tightened, and he was smiling a little wider and more genuinely than before.

When Steph looked back up, he opened his mouth as if he was going to speak, but paused. LeBron kept a steady focus on the other man’s eyes, watching how they zoned in on LeBron’s uncovered upper half, analyzing the entire expense of visible skin and making no effort to hide it. His eyes finally met LeBron’s again and widened in realization of what he’d just done, and his cheeks darkened even more. “Does that work?” LeBron asked casually, pretending he didn’t just watch Steph check him out and gesturing to the jersey.

Steph looked back down at the jersey as if he’d forgotten it in the last few seconds before looking back at LeBron. “Uh, yeah,” he replied with a shaky voice. “Yeah, I uh, thank you, man. This is…this is amazing.” He could hardly get the words out, flustered beyond belief. LeBron’s smile only grew.

He leaned back against his locker, resting his hands behind his head. “How about you go meet some of the other guys?” He gestured to the rest of the room. “I love talkin’ to ya but this don’t seem too fair to everyone else.” Steph looked around, his shoulders slumping a little in guilt. He nodded wordlessly, holding the jersey tightly against his chest and getting ready to just walk away.

LeBron put a hand out to grab his shoulder and stop him just before he could turn fully, regretting it a little when Steph nearly jumped out of his own skin. “Hey, Curry?” He started, trying to mask his own trepidation about the question as best as he could. Steph looked back at him, eyes wide with confusion. “You mind waitin’ a bit after everyone else leaves? I wanted’ta talk to ya a bit more.”

Steph paused, looking at him with a curious expression before he nodded. “Yeah, I can stay,” he replied, sounding hesitant but willing. “I’m…I’ll go talk to the others now. I’ll see you in a bit…?” He looked nervous saying the last words, as if he didn’t believe LeBron was even telling the truth about wanting to talk to him more, so LeBron nodded reassuringly.

“Yeah. See you in a lil’ while.” LeBron _ was _ sincere, and he wanted to make Steph feel at least a little secure knowing he wasn’t just messing with him. Steph nodded, head bobbing up and down quickly as though he was just reaffirming to himself it was true, before turning away and walking over to the other players.

One of the other Davidson players walked up to LeBron, a bright smile on his face. “Hi, Mr. James,” he started, standing up straight and tall. “I’m Bryant.”

LeBron laughed. “Wow, too formal,” he told him, having never liked to be referred to as “mister.” “Just call me Bron, s’all good. Nice to meet you, Bryant.”

The rest of the meetings with the college boys went smoothly, and soon enough they were gathering their own bags to leave just like the players. LeBron watched Steph mumble something to his teammates before they all glanced back at him and then back to Steph, snickering and poking at him teasingly. “It’s not like that,” he could hear Steph say, sounding petulant. “He’s just givin’ me advice. Prolly.”

Not wanting to listen in any further and possibly hear something he didn’t want to hear, LeBron sat down on the bench next to his locker, taking his iPhone out and sticking his headphones in. He tapped on a random playlist, letting the heavy rap track blast on full volume in his ears - maybe he’d go deaf by 50 but damn was he going to enjoy his time while he could hear.

He watched Steph take a seat across the room, fiddling around with his flip phone awkwardly. The room gradually began to clear around them, with some other players going in and out of the showers within minutes. Steph looked as uncomfortable as ever, and LeBron felt bad for making him just sit there alone until everyone left, so he gestured for the other player to come sit by him.

Steph stared at LeBron’s hand for a few seconds after the gesture, as if making sure it was real, before he got up, walked with his head down over to LeBron and sat down a few spaces on the bench away from him. He looked at the LeBron nervously, head tilted as if he was asking if he’d done what LeBron wanted him to do. Then his eyes fell down to LeBron’s chest, and the other player immediately realized that he was still shirtless. _ Oops. _ No wonder the other Davidson boys had been glancing at him every few moments.

He nodded once at Steph - when the college player’s eyes were finally dragged back up to make contact again - before looking towards his last two teammates in the locker room. “I’m just gonna give ‘im,” he gestured to Steph, “some pointers ‘n then I’m headin’ out. See y’all tomorrow for our flight.” The other players nodded, bidding him their goodbyes and waving to him as they picked up their bags and left the locker room.

There was nothing but dead silence as the two men sitting in the locker room waited to hear the _ click _of the door shutting that came seconds after the last players left the room. When it did, they immediately looked toward each other, Steph with wide, confused eyes and LeBron with an unreadable expression.

LeBron stood up, his large, muscular figure immediately taking control of the entire room. He fought a smile at the way Steph stood up right after, had to ignore the way his body wanted to seize up seeing the college player’s legs shake with nerves. Without any hesitation he walked towards Steph, taking slow strides as the other player backed up a little.

“What’re you doing?” Steph asked. He kept backing up, but LeBron kept getting closer, unrelenting. Soon enough his back had hit the cold metal lockers on the other side of the locker room, and there was no room to run or escape. LeBron stood over him, eyeing him over like a predator eyed its prey.

“Well,” LeBron mumbled, leaning down so he was eye level with Steph. “Tell me to stop if I ain’t been doin’ this shit right, okay?” He waited a few seconds for a response, but when there was none other than an overwhelming lustfulness in Steph's eyes, he leaned in and pressed their lips together, grabbing Steph’s chin to pull him closer.

He almost expected Steph to push him off, yell at him for jumping on him like that. He’d been almost nervous himself, worried that Steph would be like all the kids back at his high school - push him away, call him disgusting, scream countless slurs that would only make him hide his sexuality, beating anyone who dared to bring it up to him afterwards. He’d already done that once before when his classmates had found out, and he could _ easily _ do it again.

LeBron didn’t want to have a repeat of back then, but he didn’t think he could resist everything inside of him screaming to get what he wanted any longer, so he finally took a risk. And when Steph didn't push him away, instead leaning into the kiss and grabbing LeBron tightly as if he was the only thing keeping him upright, LeBron felt like a weight had finally been released from his shoulders.

He kept going, pressing Steph up against the wall and holding him there with a tight grip on his shoulders. His body yelled at him to go in, get into his mouth already, but he knew he couldn’t do that just yet and instead pulled away despite how much he didn’t want to. Steph let out a whine as the lips left his own, and LeBron almost laughed at the way a surge of energy ran through his body from the sound.

“You okay?” He asked, voice gravelly with what was apparently arousal if his shorts feeling a _ lot _less roomy all of a sudden was any indication. His breaths came out short and fast, and he was unable to take a full deep breath to steady himself, staring deep into Steph’s eyes and taking in his whole face.

Steph looked to be in no better condition. His eyes were half lidded, breathing heavy, and he was holding onto LeBron’s sides with a strong enough grip that it was almost starting to bruise. “Yeah,” he gasped out, voice shaking. “Yeah, just, fuckin’…do it again.”

That was all LeBron needed.

He leaned forward and pressed their lips together again, smiling into the kiss at the groan Steph let out from the touch. His tongue darted out to slide across Steph’s lips gently, requesting entrance. Steph whined but acquiesced, parting his lips just enough for LeBron’s tongue to get in and explore the whole expanse. The feeling of immense pleasure for both of them appeared immediately, and LeBron pulled Steph close enough for their chests to touch.

They kept going, and LeBron felt the tightness in his shorts only increase. He needed more, far more than what he was getting. Eventually he pulled away when he needed air, hands falling down to hold Steph up from his sides while they both gasped for air. Steph let out some sort of choked up laugh, smiling at LeBron with glazed eyes. “Fuck,” he breathed out, head dropping down into the crook of LeBron’s neck. “Fuck, man.”

LeBron grinned at how easily Steph had loosened up, how quickly he’d submitted and let LeBron take control. But the larger man couldn’t ignore the hardness under the fabric of his shorts, knew he needed to go further. He moved his hands down more until he was holding the hem of Steph’s shirt, pulling it slightly away from his skin to give him a hint. “More?” He asked, the single word enough for Steph to understand what he was saying.

He watched Steph’s mouth fall open slightly, his tongue darting out to wet his plush pink lips and nearly ruining LeBron’s entire life in the process. He still looked nervous even after it all, and LeBron wondered if he’d made a mistake in going so fast. But before he could ask, maybe back off a little, Steph nodded once. “Yeah,” he replied, eyes hardening with what LeBron could only assume was confidence. “I want more.”

It was hard for LeBron to resist not just yanking all of Steph’s clothes off right there, with Steph looking at him like _that_ and saying things like _ that _and just unconsciously trying to fuck LeBron over without even noticing. He managed, though, and nodded, pulling away from Steph for a second. His bag was across the room, so he walked over to rummage through it, being extra careful to keep his hands from shaking with excitement.

Once he grabbed what he needed, he turned around and walked back over to Steph, who was leaning heavily on the wall behind him while still trying to catch his breath from earlier. He revealed in his hand a bottle of lotion, something he brought to every game “just in case.” Steph eyed it cautiously, but nodded in affirmation after a few moments. LeBron took the hem of Steph’s pants in one hand and yanked them down with ease, biting the cap off his lotion and maneuvering it so he could pour a generous amount onto his fingers.

He pulled his own pants down with his free hand as he put the bottle of lotion down on the bench behind him before looking back to Steph, whose eyes were immediately drawn downwards. His mouth stayed open, eyes widening at the size of what he’d been looking at. “You scared?” LeBron asked, a smirk in his voice. “It’s not gonna bite you.”

Steph flushed, eyes flying back up to meet LeBron’s. “I’m not…” he started, lips forming a pout as he sucked on the inside of his cheek. “I’m not _ scared. _” The word came out a little higher pitched than what seemed to be intended, only making LeBron’s smug grin widen. Steph looked away, rolling his eyes at the smile. “Just hurry up,” he mumbled, the pout on his face somehow becoming even bigger.

LeBron just grunted in response, his silent way of saying _ don’t tell me what to do. _ He grabbed Steph’s shoulder and pulled him forwards, spinning him around before pushing him back against the wall. “Here goes,” he said, not even giving a moment for the words to settle in before sticking his fingers inside of Steph.

He could hear Steph take in a sharp breath and slam a hand against a wall immediately after the insertion. “You good?” He asked, pausing with his fingers instead of moving them around as he wanted. Steph’s whole body had tensed up far more than before, and his eyes were scrunched shut so hard LeBron probably couldn’t open them even with pliers.

“Yeah,” Steph forced out, moving his hands up on the wall and balling them into fists. “I’m…just a lil’ new to this.” The admission sounded reluctant, and Steph breathed a little more slowly afterwards as if he was getting more used to the unmoving fingers inside of his body.

LeBron raised an eyebrow curiously despite Steph being unable to see his face. “Ah,” he whispered, more to himself than to Steph, “so I’m the first to get in you.” It felt almost like an honor, gave him a special sense of pride to be the college player’s first sexual experience. He suddenly understood why Steph had been so nervous - he didn’t know what he was getting into. LeBron made a mental note to go a _ little _slower than usual, just to make sure Steph was comfortable.

He finally began moving his fingers, grinning when Steph sucked in another breath before releasing it in a choked laugh. “Fuck, that’s…” he started, but the words became incoherent too quickly for LeBron to have any idea what he was trying to say. He moved them around some more, exploring and covering every area as best as he could. Each slight movement elicited a whine from Steph, who looked like he could already barely keep himself standing.

As he allowed his fingers to coat the whole inside of Steph’s ass with the lotion, LeBron used his free arm to grab the bottom hem of Steph’s shirt. He tugged upwards a little, and Steph got the hint instantly and lifted his arms up. LeBron pulled the shirt off his body easily, happy that his own had been off already and made this easier. His arm wrapped tightly around Steph’s waist after tossing the shirt to the side, pressing him into the wall even more and holding him up.

He spread his fingers out, moving his head to Steph’s shoulder to press down a searing kiss as the younger man gasped again. Steph’s whole body shook violently as LeBron spread his fingers out within his ass and moved them around again, prying him open and loosening him up as much as possible. “You’re real tight,” LeBron grunted, his own arm shaking from the effort it had taken to spread his fingers. Steph let out another incoherent string of sounds that _ might’ve _been a sentence but LeBron couldn’t tell.

“A’ight, you ready?” His lips brushed Steph’s ear, and he grinned at the full body shudder his words and touch elicited from the college player. Steph nodded, his hands trembling against the wall. LeBron took in a deep breath before pulling his fingers out quickly, allowing himself only a few seconds to ingest the whimper Steph let out as he coated his dick with the lotion sitting behind him. He didn’t let anything settle in, too impatient to resist his urges any longer, and, as soon as he knew he was slicked up enough, he pushed inside and replaced his fingers with his dick.

LeBron couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden relief he felt, finally inside Steph, everything he’d been hoping for actually working out for once and giving him what he wanted so badly. Steph let out a few sharp, fast breaths, and LeBron could just barely see tears pricking at his eyes, dampening his eyelashes slightly. He waited before setting a pace, allowing Steph time to get used to the sudden intrusion, something he’d never experienced before - the reminder that he was the first to ever do such a thing to Steph made LeBron a little more giddy with excitement and pride.

Steph smacked the wall hard, forcing an eye open and turning his head slightly to look at LeBron. “Okay,” he gasped, forcing a smile as he looked at LeBron. “Okay, okay, I’m okay.” His voice was strained, but there was sincerity in his tone - he wanted more. LeBron made a sound of affirmation, more to himself than to Steph, and finally started in his rhythm. He set a slow pace to start, but his own arousal quickly began making him speed up as he tried to chase his desires. Steph’s breaths were cut short at every thrust, hands slamming against the wall every few seconds in response.

LeBron felt a sudden tightness around his dick, even tighter than it had felt when he had to open Steph up, and nearly climaxed from that feeling alone. He let out some mixture of a growl and a groan, pressing his lips down hard on the back of Steph’s neck to stop himself from making any more sounds. Steph almost screamed, releasing a high pitched whine and accidentally hitting his head against the wall harder than he’d probably intended if the way he winced afterwards was any indication. “You still good?” LeBron asked after finally removing his lips, voice ragged and breathless.

“Yeah,” Steph replied, eyelids fluttering rapidly. “I’m okay, it’s fine.” The next few of his words descended back into nonsense LeBron couldn’t discern, and his hands slid down to his own dick to finally begin touching himself. LeBron noticed instantly, taking his now free hand and wrapping it around Steph’s body before pushing Steph’s hand off and grabbing his dick with his own. He began stroking at the same speed he was thrusting, perfectly in rhythm. Steph let out a squeak and a choked laugh, smiling against the wall. “Fuck, ‘Bron,” he murmured, just barely loud enough for LeBron to hear. The words spurred him on, quickening his pace even more.

There was a familiar familiar clenching in LeBron’s gut, and he could never miss the way his body was becoming tenser and tenser by the second. He was close, and, if the increasing rapidness of shaking arms and legs was anything to go off of, Steph wasn’t too far away either.

LeBron pressed his nose into Steph’s neck, breathing in deeply and kissing him again. “So pretty, so fuckin’ good,” he whispered, feeling Steph become tenser at the words. “You takin’ me so well.” He kept going, harder and harder, chasing the orgasm as fast as he could. Just a little more was all he needed. “So happy I get to be the first to fuckin’ ruin you, baby.”

The words came out with a raspiness that almost surprised LeBron himself, and Steph’s whole body became fully tense at the pet name at the end, hardly having enough time to breathe before he finally came. His body clenched around LeBron as he released, the tightness being just enough to send the older man over the edge right behind him, spilling into Steph as the post-sex euphoria quickly showed up and began flooding his system.

He let his orgasm ride out its course, watching with unfocused vision as Steph spilled into his hand to keep the mess from getting all over the floor. As it all slowed down a dribble, he leaned forwards and rested his body on Steph’s, although he quickly pulled away when he heard Steph let out a panicked _ no you’re crushing me _grunt. His arms both wrapped tightly around Steph’s waist and pulled him backwards until they were both seated, LeBron on the bench behind them and Steph on his lap.

LeBron pulled out slowly, listening to the way Steph’s breathing hitched as soon as he moved. Once he was completely out, Steph slumped backwards into him, letting out a content sigh as his eyelids fluttered shut. “How was it?” LeBron asked, already feeling a smug grin rising up on his face before Steph had even spoken.

“Fuck.” Steph forced an eye open to look at LeBron, smiling lazily. “I, I’on even know how’ta explain…” LeBron’s ego _ really _didn’t need to be boosted any more and yet here was Steph, blowing it up as much as he possibly could. “Amazing,” he eventually settled on replying with, his eye falling closed again as his body melted into LeBron’s.

They sat like that for a few moments, basking in the euphoric post-orgasm feeling that they never wanted to end, before LeBron finally - reluctantly - moved a little to grab his phone out of his pants, which had been left discarded next to him on the bench. He turned it on to check the time, groaning when he saw a few texts from his teammates reminding him that his flight the next day was early in the morning. The current time, however, wasn’t _ too _ late at only 10:15, so LeBron wondered if maybe he could get just a little more out of this already wonderful night.

“Hey,” he started, almost a little surprised at how much deeper his already deep voice had become from the sex, “you wanna come back to my room with me? ‘Less you’re busy tonight, or somethin’.” He opened up his Instagram and began scrolling through idly, stopping on Dwyane Wade’s page and liking his recent posts without even really looking at them. Steph shifted in his lap and he felt a part of him twist, not with nervousness - because he didn’t get nervous - but _ maybe _a little bit of doubt.

Steph turned towards his as best as he could from his position, tongue swiping over his lips and wetting as large of an expanse as it could. _ Fuck. _ “Are…are you cool with it?” He sounded hesitant, his voice small. LeBron nodded, putting his phone back down next to him in favor of wrapping his arms around Steph’s waist. “I’m,” Steph began, and LeBron could see his cheeks reddening, “I mean, uh, yeah, I can come, as long as you’re okay with it.” He rushed the last few words before leaning back and burying his head into LeBron’s neck, the sudden warmth and additional touch making LeBron instinctively hold him tighter.

He rubbed Steph’s side a little, brushing over what looked to be an old bruise from a game. Steph jumped at the touch, shutting his eyes and moving a hand down to grab LeBron’s and move it away. As soon as he let go, though, LeBron moved it right back to that spot. “Yeah, I got no problem,” he said, speaking casually as if he wasn’t prodding at Steph’s bruise. “We can pick up food on the way. I haven’t eaten in five hours, I fuckin’ need a bite after all this.” Steph’s band wrapped around his own again slowly, pulling it off once more.

“That’s fine, I could use a bite to eat too,” he mumbled, voice shaking a little. LeBron grinned at his effect. “Where, uh, where do you…” He couldn’t finish the sentence, his words ending in a slightly irritated groan as LeBron poked a little too hard at the bruise. The latter couldn’t help but laugh at the reaction, wrapping his large hand around the bruise as much as he could and holding tightly. “You’re such a dick,” Steph whined, and LeBron could hear the pout in his voice.

He squeezed Steph’s side, appreciating the jump he got in response. “Yeah, okay,” he replied, arm around Steph’s waist pulling him a little closer. “We can just go get burgers from McD’s or somethin’; there’s a place near my hotel. That good?”

Steph nodded, a hand moving down to rest on LeBron’s gently. It was so small compared to his own, LeBron noticed, barely able to cover the back of his palm. The fingers brushed over his own, soft and pale and clashing with his rough, dark skin. He briefly thought back to his childhood again, when the hardness of his hands was his greatest ally. Back when he couldn’t kiss a girl _ or _a boy without having five other boys following him home either to attack or taunt him. It all ended in fights, anyway, because he was a lot better at shutting people up with a good punch than he was with really talking to them.

God, if younger LeBron could see him now. Holding a boy on his lap after making out with and fucking him, about to take him back to a hotel to hopefully do it all _again,_ without any care for anyone else_._ He didn’t know if his younger self would believe it. He still hardly believed it, and he just lived it.

A stomach growl snapped him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see Steph grinning sheepishly at him with a pink tint to his cheeks. “Sorry,” he said, pulling his hand away from LeBron’s - ouch - to hold his stomach. “I haven’t eaten since, like, lunchtime.”

LeBron ignored the phantom touch his hand still felt, removing it from Steph’s side and letting go of him entirely. He leaned back, both hands being put down on the bench beneath him to hold him up. “‘Least you didn’t play a whole game like that,” he pointed out, grinning. Steph smiled back bashfully, the sight nearly sending LeBron to another galaxy.

“Well, you got kicked outta your game, so you didn’t really play a whole game either…”

* * *

Their bantering never really died down until they’d gotten back to LeBron’s hotel, munching on their burgers - and pretending this _ wasn’t _way off their diet plans - happily as they took the elevator up to his room. LeBron pulled his room key out of his wallet, spinning it around on his finger once before shoving it into the lock to open his door. Steph stood behind him, finishing up the last of his burger.

They walked in somewhat quietly, and LeBron turned around to lean against his wall while staring at Steph only to see the college player licking the remaining grease off his fingers. He stuck one in his mouth, sucking on it to clean off every last bit of grease he could find, seemingly unaware of how much he was destroying LeBron internally. He repeated the process with two more fingers before LeBron had to turn away for the sake of his health and composure.

“So, you done with ball for the season now?” He asked, managing to keep his voice steady through sheer willpower. He walked over to his bed, a queen that just barely fit his whole body when he laid flat. When he turned back to Steph as he sat down on the large bed, he could see the other man’s facial expression fall slightly.

“Yeah,” Steph replied, looking down at the carpet with his shoulders slumped. “Just gonna be watchin’ you now.” LeBron knew that he’d hit a sore spot with his question, and that he should probably stop now, but he felt like he needed to press the subject more. It wasn’t good to just bottle up disappointment - and he’d felt plenty as a Cavalier.

He patted a spot on the bed next to him, and Steph’s eyes widened a little but he followed the gesture and sat down next to LeBron. “You’re gonna lose a lot, kid,” he started, giving Steph a hopefully-warm smile to try to make him feel a little better. “Better to get used to it now than only find out about that pain in the big leagues. I’d kill to be in your shoes when I learned that shit.” He wasn’t lying - his first playoff loss had been pretty rough, and he would shamefully admit he didn’t take it all that well. The lack of prior experience with major losses had been one of the reasons he almost regretted not going to college before joining the league, but he’d grown used to it by now.

“I guess.” Steph swung his legs back and forth, lips sticking out in a pout. “I’m just disappointed, s’all.” He wrapped his arms around himself, kicking a little more aggressively than earlier for a few moments. “Should’ve done better.”

LeBron nodded thoughtfully. “Alright, so do better.” Steph looked up at him after that, cocking his head to the side with a confused expression on his face. “Go fuck ‘em all next season, show ‘em what you can do. Then you can come into the big leagues and prove yourself all over again.” He grinned with pride at the way Steph’s eyes became bright at the idea of showing the NBA what he was. “And you can remember I was the one who called it.” He winked for good measure, laughing when Steph’s cheeks and ears turned pink.

“Thanks,” Steph whispered, face reddening more. He sounded hesitant, nervous, looking at LeBron with wide eyes that begged for acknowledgement. LeBron nodded, smiling at him a little more softly and trying as hard as he possibly could to not let himself melt when Steph’s eyes crinkled up as he grinned wide. His two rows of perfectly straight, white teeth sparkled, only further accentuating his flawless face, and LeBron wondered how someone could get so lucky in terms of…well, everything.

He looked irresistible, sitting there with the cutest smile on his face, holding himself tightly as if he was daring LeBron to try to hold him tighter, and LeBron felt his lust returning, could already notice a lack of space in his pants. He wondered how he’d gotten so fucked by someone so fast, but then remembered - this was Steph Curry. Anything was possible.

“C’mere, baby,” he whispered, gesturing for Steph to come closer, and the smaller man immediately unwrapped himself and moved himself over so he was mere inches away from LeBron. LeBron leaned forwards slightly, dipping his head down to capture Steph’s soft lips in yet another kiss, smiling into it when Steph kissed back with an equal amount of force to what he’d gone in with.

He wrapped his arms around Steph’s waist and pulled him in as close as he could, his hands reaching down and grabbing the hem of Steph’s shirt and pulling upwards. Steph pulled out of the kiss, leaving both of them unsatisfied and greedy for more, and allowed LeBron a few seconds to yank Steph’s shirt off and then follow suit with his own before taking initiative himself and pulling LeBron back in for more. LeBron pushed Steph backwards on the bed until they were at the other end, and then he leaned down so Steph was laying down, head lifted up slightly to continue kissing the man on top of him.

LeBron had to pull away when he needed air, taking in a deep breath before he pulled back entirely, avoiding Steph’s grabby hands and scooting himself back to the other end of the bed. He yanked the lotion out of his bag again before turning around and removing Steph’s pants in one swift motion, doing the same with his own and biting the cap off of the bottle. Steph stared with wide eyes, his previously heavy breathing on pause as he watched unmovingly. LeBron poured the lotion onto his fingers before grabbing Steph’s shoulder and turning him over, pushing him down so his face was smushed into the pillow.

“Take two,” he mumbled, voice already deep with lust as he shoved his fingers inside of Steph, relishing the squeak they made as they went into his hole, which was still slightly wet from earlier, with ease. The familiar tightness made him grin, amazed someone could still be so tight even after being fucked only an hour before, and he spread his fingers out to scissor Steph open a little - causing Steph to let out a _ much _higher pitched whine than he’d been prepared to hear, and he almost broke down laughing - while moving them around to recover the expanse he’d went through earlier.

Steph moved his hands up to hold onto the sheets tightly, knuckles turning white from his grip. “Hurry up,” he breathed out, groaning when the fingers moved more. “God, just fuckin’ _ go_, fuck, I’m…” His words trailed off into nonsense again as the fingers became tenser and more jerky for a second.

LeBron leaned down so his mouth was level with Steph’s ear. “Don’t tell me what to fuckin’ do, bitch,” he whispered, and began going purposely slow and more deliberate just to watch Steph squirm with impatience. But his own lust overpowered his desire to punish, made him start speeding up anyway. He spread his fingers again, pressing a rough kiss to Steph’s shoulder when he heard him gasp again. “A’ight,” he said when he pulled back, and then pulled his fingers out of Steph without any hesitation. “You ready?” He asked, his whole body screaming at him to _just_ _go in_, but he managed to resist it for a moment.

“Yeah,” Steph grunted, turning his head so he could look up at LeBron with one eye. His mouth was half open, breaths ragged and muffled against the pillows. “C’mon, holy shit.” He hit the pillow with a closed fist once for effect, and LeBron rolled his eyes.

“Y’all kids, so fuckin’ needy,” he grumbled, appreciating Steph’s groan of some combination of irritation and embarrassment. “Here goes.” He didn’t give the words time to settle, pushing himself inside of Steph for the second time that night with content sighs coming out of both of their lips at the feeling.

He didn’t take long to find a comfortable position, and smacked the side of Steph’s ass once in warning - earning another almost-squeal noise from the younger man - before getting into a rhythm, pushing back and forth quickly as he listened to all of Steph’s on-beat breaths.

“God, can’t believe you’re still this good after I already fucked you,” LeBron mused, giving a particularly hard thrust that made Steph’s hips buck a little. Steph made some choked noise that _ sounded _like a laugh but LeBron couldn’t tell for sure. “Hope you keep this beauty for years to come.” He slapped Steph’s ass once more, enjoying the way Steph sucked in a breath to avoid saying anything in response.

Steph moved his arms around on the pillow, trying to find an area where he could have a better hold, eventually stopping and grabbing the pillow and its cover in another knuckle-whitening grip. “Years?” He asked after a few more thrusts, sounding almost hesitant. “You want more of this?” LeBron almost laughed at him. Was he really asking if LeBron wanted _ more _as if he wasn’t that interested, when he was literally fucking Steph for the second time that night?

“Yeah, maybe,” he grunted, pressing his hands down into Steph’s back for balance and probably leaving bruises. _ Oops. _ “You ain’t that bad for your first time.” He did manage to understand that Steph’s following sound was meant to be a laugh this time.

He kept going, keeping his pace up like only an expert could, cataloguing each sound Steph made into a folder in his mind to think about later. “You’re so fuckin’ good, so _ tight _even on your second run,” he ground out, pushing harder when it felt like Steph clenched around him. “This really your first time?”

Steph whined, letting out an “ah!” when LeBron went in hard and hit his prostate dead on, his whole body going boneless against the mattress. “So close,” he breathed out, taking in heavy breaths. “Yeah, s’my first. Promise.” He turned his head as much as he could to look up at LeBron with all the desperation he could muster up. There were tears beginning form in the corners of his eyes, a few streaks on his cheeks. LeBron felt everything in him go up in flames. He was amazed he didn’t just climax right there, looking at the mess he’d made of Steph Curry without even trying.

“Please, so close,” Steph repeated himself, deliriously giggling and groaning when LeBron grabbed his shoulder tightly and dug his fingers into the soft skin. It would definitely leave bruises, but that was part of the fun - LeBron wanted to be the one creating every bruise Steph got, whether it was from a game or from something like this. He had to stake his claim.

LeBron smiled grimly, squeezing Steph’s shoulder a little more tight than he’d originally intended, but it seemed to work if the lewd moan Steph let out in response had anything to say about it. “You’re really gonna come to me not even touchin’ ya,” he pointed out, wishing he’d been recording on his phone just so he could remember all of the noises Steph was making and keep them with him forever. “You a real slut for my dick, baby.”

And that was it, that was all Steph needed before he groaned into his release, spilling his seed all over the formerly crisp and clean sheets beneath him. Before he was even finished LeBron pulled out abruptly, killing his rhythm and causing Steph to whine a little louder than usual. He didn’t pay much attention, using his grip on Steph’s shoulder to yank and flip him over so he was laying on his back and staring up at LeBron, liquid still leaking out of him as he struggled to catch his breath.

LeBron pulled his hand away from Steph’s shoulder and began stroking himself, breaths heavy and ragged as he got closer and closer to his own orgasm. Steph was looking at him with those same desperate eyes, unmoving on the bed besides one hand on his leg that was wiping off the white specks and streaks of cum all over him. LeBron’s eyes narrowed into slits. He wanted to see Steph even more of a mess, not fixing himself up. They locked eyes, LeBron’s hard and unreadable, Steph’s tear-blurred and needy.

“…’Bron?” Steph asked, voice breathless and broken. Just the word, his name coming out in a breath, sent massive waves of heat through LeBron’s body. He felt it all zeroing in _ exactly _where he wanted, and smiled down at Steph knowingly. With a grunted “fuck” he was finally climaxing, releasing all over Steph’s chest and legs and ruining him even further.

Steph never moved, allowing LeBron to spill all over his stomach, even letting some of the fluid get on his cheeks at one point. LeBron let everything out with a long sigh, shutting his eyes tight and keeping his teeth gritted through his whole release until he was completely finished. When he opened his eyes, Steph was laying splayed out in front of him, covered in cum practically everywhere, chest rising and falling rapidly as he was still trying to remember how to breathe properly. LeBron collapsed next to him, uncaring of the gross state of the sheets beneath him, and let his eyes slide shut as he allowed his body to have some time to fix itself up.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, letting their heart rates slow back to a steady pace and their breathing follow along. _ I’m never gonna get over this feeling, _LeBron thought to himself dazedly, too in love with the euphoria he experienced every time he orgasmed to give it up for anything. The only thing that could compare was the rush that always came with winning a big game - it was like he’d just gotten ten highlight dunks in a row. Too powerful.

Finally he got up, rolling off the bed lazily and patting Steph’s leg once in an attempt at comfort when the college player whined. He walked over to the bathroom, yanking off nearly an entire roll’s worth of toilet paper before going back over to the bed. He stared down at Steph, drinking in the beautiful image he’d created, wishing he didn’t ever have to get rid of it. Steph was laying on the bed, eyes half-lidded but locked on him, specks of cum littered across his cheeks and completely covering his chest. His legs were still spread, and he was flexing his fingers carefully to try to loosen them up after so long of using them to keep himself connected to the pillow he’d been holding.

LeBron wanted to take a picture, save it in his special folder for when he was alone on the road and needed some satisfaction, but he knew he shouldn’t push that far. Not yet, at least. He could destroy Steph even better for a picture, but that was for another time. He was content with everything he’d gotten tonight. 

“I messed you up real good, huh?” He mused, leaning down to wipe off Steph’s stomach with the thin paper in his hands. It was soaked almost instantly, and LeBron regretted not bringing paper towels instead, but it was too late to change things now. He kept wiping, until Steph was at least not _ covered _in LeBron’s cum anymore, his pale skin finally visible again. LeBron tossed the wet toilet paper into the trash can before falling back into the bed next to Steph. He laid on his side and stared at the fucked up sheets they were laying on, realizing only in that moment how much of a mess they’d made. He made a mental note to leave a tip for the cleaning staff in the morning.

Steph rolled over on his side, looking at LeBron with glazed over eyes and a dumb smile on his face. He wriggled his body, moving slightly closer to the larger man, and LeBron didn’t miss the way he winced at the movement but kept going. He moved an arm up to wrap around Steph’s waist and pulled him closer gently, and heard Steph let out a sigh of relief at not having to move on his own anymore. _ He’s sore ‘cause of me. _ LeBron grinned smugly at the thought.

He shoved an arm under Steph’s side and wrapped him up with the other, holding him tightly against his own chest. Steph’s eyes closed as soon as the warmth enveloped him, and he let out a pleased whine that made LeBron’s smile soften a little.

The sticky feeling on his chest when Steph’s touched it brought him out of his post-sex haze, made him remember what they’d just done. “Hey,” he mumbled, voice gravelly with the remains of his arousal. Steph hummed in response, not opening his eyes. “You’re all gross, go shower ‘n then we can do this.” That elicited an upset whine, and Steph pressed himself closer to LeBron. The subsequent increase in stickiness on LeBron’s chest made him cringe a little.

“Tired,” Steph groaned, nuzzling his head into LeBron’s shoulder. “Don’t think I can move.” The words were muffled a little, raspy and slurred with tiredness. LeBron grunted, leaning down a little to place a gentle kiss on Steph’s shoulder.

He tried to move out of the bed, which immediately caused Steph to whine and his grip to tighten. “C’mon, I’ll go in with you,” he said, knowing he needed to shower anyway - he hadn’t after the game, and then he’d fucked Steph twice, so now he was definitely stinking up the room far more than usual. Steph let out an irritated “hmph” in response but the grip on LeBron’s waist loosened and he pushed himself up. “See, you can move,” LeBron told him, laughing a little with pride at the way every slight movement of Steph’s lower half led to a grimace.

When Steph finally - begrudgingly - got out of the bed with LeBron’s help, LeBron led him to the shower and began running the water. He made it hotter than usual, having wanted the steam to clear his system after a stressful game, and stood back a few moments to let the water heat up. Steph was leaning on the bathroom wall, watching with unfocused eyes. He’d glance down at LeBron’s bare midsection every so often, apparently too tired to even notice how obvious he was being, and just stare like nothing else existed. LeBron knew that way his pride had massively inflated tonight from both the game and Steph’s clear admiration of him wasn’t good for him and it’d bite him in the ass sooner or later, but in the moment he was too happy to care.

He gestured for Steph to come over, smile widening when Steph had to limp slightly to get to him, and let him step into the shower first. He followed behind the college player, groaning a little when he noticed that the shower head wasn’t as tall as himself. “This shit’s the pro’lem with being tall,” he muttered, wrapping his arms around Steph gently before ducking down to get himself under the water. Steph laughed, his small hands resting on top of LeBron’s arms and hardly even covering any surface area.

They stood together, letting the warm water rain down on their heads for a few seconds in a comfortable silence, before Steph leaned back to rest his head in the space between LeBron’s shoulder and neck. LeBron’s grip around his waist tightened a little, and the older man lifted his head to place it on top of Steph’s. “See, you feel a lot less sticky now,” he murmured, rocking Steph back and forth a few times slowly, trying to entertain himself.

“It was your fault,” Steph replied, a smile in his voice. “Next time maybe don’t make a mess on me.” LeBron didn’t need to see his face to know how big his grin was, and leaned down to press a kiss on the juncture where Steph’s shoulder met his neck. Steph leaned back into it, letting out a very quiet moan that LeBron could barely hear over the splashing of the water beneath them.

He pulled back a little, tongue darting out to ghost over the mark already forming on Steph’s skin. “Nah, you look fuckin’ nice like that. All covered in what’s mine, ‘cause you’re mine too.” He was grateful that he was holding Steph in that moment because he could feel the full body-shudder his words elicited, only making his pride even bigger.

Steph turned around then on shaky legs, lifting his arms up to wrap them around LeBron’s neck and hold himself up from there. He stared up at LeBron with slightly parted lips, his tongue poking out and swiping over them slowly - _ tauntingly _. LeBron took the hint, eyes darkening once with lust before he leaned down and pressed his lips against Steph’s for what felt like the hundredth time - and yet still had all the spark and energy of a first kiss - that night. He lifted Steph off the floor of the shower and pressed him against the wall, holding him tight and leaning in closer as Steph pulled their heads together with one hand. He sucked on Steph’s lip a little, grunting in satisfaction when Steph opened his mouth not even a second later to let him in once again.

LeBron lifted one hand to tangle it in Steph’s hair, nearly crushing his body against the wall. Steph didn’t resist, though, only letting out another moan when LeBron bit down on his lip a little bit. LeBron wondered if the power high he’d been on since the game would ever die at this rate, with the way Steph just kept fueling it.

They eventually - reluctantly - pulled apart and finished washing off, and LeBron took it upon himself to pick Steph up and carry him out of the shower. They walked out, wearing fresh white towels on their waists and an extra on Steph’s head, and Steph collapsed onto the bed while LeBron organized their clothes, which had been tossed on the floor without much care earlier. He tossed Steph’s pants over to them, landing them perfectly on Steph’s face. Steph groaned at the fact that he’d have to move _ again_, sitting up slowly and reluctantly.

LeBron watched, slightly amused, as Steph made an effort to pull the towel off and get his pants on as soon as possible, his cheeks slightly red as he did so. It was as if he was embarassed for LeBron to see his parts, even though they’d just been on full display both in the shower and during sex. LeBron didn’t say anything about it, though, just pulling his own back on and watching with curious eyes.

As soon as Steph finished getting the pants on he flopped backwards and buried himself into the sheets and pillows on the clean side of the bed, taking up the whole space and leaving hardly any room that wasn’t covered in liquid for LeBron. The larger man grunted, shutting the lights off before walking over and smacking Steph’s ass once. “Scoot over,” he ordered, and Steph’s eyes immediately flew open and his cheeks reddened with embarrassment as he moved over enough for LeBron to lay on the end of the bed. As they got situated together, LeBron pulled Steph a little closer and wrapped his arms around him. “So, you stayin’ the night?” He asked, even though he knew the answer. They were about to go to bed together, for fuck’s sake.

“If…if you don’t mind,” Steph replied, voice quiet with what seemed to be nervousness. LeBron almost scoffed. He was asking questions with obvious answers and Steph was still unsure about them. He shook his head, moving his arms down to Steph’s waist and running his fingers along the hem of his pants lazily.

“Nah, not at all,” LeBron told him, and Steph nuzzled his head into LeBron’s chest after a few moments of hesitation. Instinctively LeBron tightened his grip around Steph’s small body, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Night,” he grumbled, the exhaustion from his long night finally starting to catch up to him as he laid in the darkness, basking in the combined warmth of his sheets and Steph.

Steph’s curls skittered across LeBron’s bare chest as he moved his head to be slightly more comfortable. “G’night,” he whispered, his own arms moving to hug LeBron just as he was being hugged.

LeBron could hear Steph’s rapidly beating heart loud and clear in the otherwise silent room, the beats gradually slowing down and lulling him into a sense of tranquility and comfort. He pressed his lips and nose down to the top of Steph’s head, eyes sliding shut, and listened to Steph’s breathing even out. The sounds were enough to finally put his still buzzing brain to rest completely, and he fell asleep with feeling more content than ever.

* * *

LeBron woke up to soft breaths on his face and sunlight streaming into the room directly into his eyes. He opened them up, squinting irritatedly and lifting a hand up to shield them, before he noticed Steph laying on top of him, head cradled in the crook of LeBron’s neck and his arms still under the larger man’s back. He let out long breaths every few seconds, warm air in LeBron’s face that normally would’ve annoyed him but right now only made him feel a little softer inside than usual (not that he’d admit it).

He tried as carefully as he could to grab his phone off the nightstand next to him without moving too much and disturbing Steph, succeeding and pulling his phone over so he could see the screen. When he had it close enough, he turned it on to check the time. _ 8:15. _He was impressed with himself - even when he’d been too, for lack of a better word, preoccupied last night and forgotten to turn his alarm on, he managed to wake up almost exactly when he needed to be up by anyway. Maybe his body was just too used to his away game sleep schedule, he mused.

Steph stirred a few seconds later, letting out a tired hum. He blinked his eyes open slowly, locking them on LeBron until his vision cleared up. When he seemed to wake up enough to recognize LeBron’s face, he smiled sleepily. LeBron thought his heart was going to fly out of his chest. “Morning,” he greeted him, in awe of the wonderful sight laying on his chest, voice gravelly and deep from sleep and disuse.

“Mornin’,” Steph responded, the word coming out slow and long as he sounded out every single syllable as best as he could. His cheeks were dusted pink, and he dropped his head back down onto LeBron’s chest and shut his eyes once more. “S’it still early?” He asked, nuzzling back into the larger man’s hard chest and letting out a content sigh when he found a good position.

“Yeah, but I gotta get outta here soon. ‘Nother game tonight ‘n I got a flight at noon. So you gotta be out too.” Steph groaned, lifting a hand to hit LeBron’s chest once in protest of having to actually get up. LeBron laughed, kissing his shoulder apologetically. “C’mon, I gotta clean up. You need a ride back anywhere?”

It took Steph a few moments to formulate an answer, right before LeBron was about to shake him to get his attention. “Back to the stadium? My car’s there,” he replied, each word slow as if he couldn’t remember how to speak. LeBron nodded, cataloguing the thought in his mental “things to do” list - and most definitely _not _thinking about how much he wanted to kiss Steph to awareness.

“A’ight, I gotta get up,” he whispered after letting the silence sit for a moment, and Steph groaned again. “C’mon, baby, I need to clean up. You can stay in the bed.” He couldn’t help but smile when Steph tensed up at the name he used and - though still clearly reluctant - rolled off of LeBron’s chest seconds later.

LeBron got up out of the bed quickly, ignoring the way his hairs stood up from the cold air of the hotel room and his limbs creaked in protest of the fast movements. He began packing up everything, remembering exactly what he’d brought with him and finding it all strewn about his room. He paused when he saw his jersey, lying on top of Steph’s own bag, and smiled with something approaching fondness.

He took fifteen minutes to shower once more, not wanting to stink up the plane and definitely piss off the rest of his team, before dressing himself in casual clothes and tossing his shirt and pants from last night into his bag. Looking back at the bed and the massive wet spot with a mixture of pride and regret, he grabbed three crisp $100 bills out of his wallet and left them on the nightstand.

When he’d finished organizing everything, he turned back to Steph, who had fallen back to sleep and was curled up with his arms clutching a pillow tightly against his chest. He gently shook Steph’s shoulder, feeling a little bad when Steph whined but opened his eyes to look up at him. “Time to go,” he said, and Steph shut his eyes again in tired irritation but sat up in the bed. LeBron tossed him his boxers and shirt, and turned away to put all his bags into one group as he waited for Steph to get dressed.

“‘Kay, m’ready,” he heard behind him, and turned around to see Steph, still with bedhead, rubbing his eye with a small closed fist and hugging the blanket up to his now covered chest. LeBron, in awe, realized he was definitely going to set the entire hotel on fire if he didn’t get out of there soon - Steph was a legitimate danger to his health.

He managed to mask his frantic emotions, though, and nodded, handing Steph his bag when the younger man got out of the bed and walked close enough before he picked up his own. He quickly fixed the sheets as best as he could on the massive queen bed, hoping the $300 would be worth cleaning up their mess.

Finally, they were both ready, standing together as the morning light peeked in through the windows and started to make the room sparkle. Steph looked at him, lips sticking out in what was _ obviously _a pout that was really going to be the death of LeBron in a few seconds. He looked nervous, like he wanted to say something, but he just kept his lips pursed together, refusing to open his mouth and speak.

LeBron cocked his head to the side curiously, unsure of what to do, when he finally had an idea. “Hey, gimme your phone for a sec’.” He said, and Steph, a little surprised, nodded and took out his flip phone. LeBron opened up the contacts and tapped quickly, impressed with himself for still remembering how to use a flip phone number pad so well. He handed it back to Steph when he was done, heart swelling in pride when he watched Steph’s face morph into a wide smile after reading all of LeBron’s contact information that had been put into his phone and saved, and the text that LeBron had sent to himself - just a simple “hey,” but it basically just gave him Steph’s number.

“I’ll call you when I’m around, ‘kay?” He promised, and Steph nodded eagerly, staring at the contact for a few more seconds in amazement before shoving his phone back into his pocket. “Alright, time to get outta here. I’ll drop you off at the stadium.” Steph nodded again, a little more slowly this time, and picked up the signed jersey off the chair next to him. He hugged into to his chest, smiling wider than LeBron had ever seen before.

They walked out of the hotel room together, and LeBron only looked back once. It seemed clean, for the most part, with only one spot telling a bit of the story of the events that had transpired that night. He smiled proudly, watching Steph walk ahead of him with a little bounce in his steps. Then he shut the hotel room door, listening to the clicking of the lock before following Steph to the elevator.

LeBron didn’t think he’d be this successful, really - getting another win on the Cavs record, another great highlight dunk, and then fucking Steph Curry not once but twice and falling asleep with him in his arms? He would’ve punched anyone who told him that was how his night would go if it hadn’t actually happened. He sighed, laughing a little to himself, and stepped into the elevator, watching the doors close slowly in front of him, effectively ending his experience at the hotel.

This really had been a night to remember.

**Author's Note:**

> <333333333


End file.
